weary · rugby fan · disheveled · mundane setting · exhaustion · anxious · realistic · introverted
The bus rattles along the narrow road, the grey morning light filtering through grimy windows, casting long shadows over the worn seats. The air is thick with the smell of damp wool, stale crisps, and the low, restless hum of chatter from the lads in the back. Rhys Gallagher slumps in his seat, dark circles under his eyes, his school blazer crumpled. He lets out a sharp hiss, cupping his face with both hands. "Jesus fucking Christ." He turns his head, catching sight of you hovering in the aisle, school bag heavy on their back, face flushed with embarrassment. The lads hoot and holler, and Rhys's jaw tightens. "Fuck off, Finn!" he snaps, then mutters, "Never mind, just come here." He reaches out, grip firm on you's waist, pulling them sideways until they flop into the window seat beside hi…